


Mile High Club

by Nemesis (ThetaSigma)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/Nemesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the get_house_laid prompt 014. House/Wilson -- sex in an airplane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mile High Club

House bounced a rubber ball against the ground impatiently. Wilson had been gone at _least_ twenty minutes, but more like thirty. How long could it take to get a wheelchair? Packing the cane had been a pain, since they had to try to fit it into the suitcase at the airport, but getting a wheelchair was really a very simple endeavor. Especially since House had called ahead and requested wheelchair assistance.

“Finally,” Wilson groaned from somewhere behind him. “Apparently, the airport is going through the Great Wheelchair Shortage.” House looked up and smiled slightly. 

“I’d take my cane, but they always look at me askance when I try. Must be my charming personality.”

Wilson smiled and dropped a kiss on House’s lips. “Must be. Come on, get in the wheelchair. I bet it’s more comfortable than that hard, plastic chair.” He pushed the chair right next to House.

House nodded. “You’ve got a point.” He stood up and limped the one step over to the wheelchair.

“Now I really feel like a cripple,” he said as he sat down. 

“Vaulting yourself around on a cane didn’t make you feel like one? I’m shocked.” 

House chuckled at that. 

“The chair comfortable?”

“As comfortable as an airport-issue wheelchair gets.”

Wilson sat down in the seat House had been in before. “I still can’t believe Cuddy hasn’t figured it out yet. I mean, we’ve _never_ taken a vacation simultaneously. Not even by accident.”

“What I can’t believe is that she didn’t haul me back last minute about a case. Hm… Maybe she _did_ figure it out.”

“Oh, speaking of cases. Greg, you are _not_ consulting at all these two weeks. They are just for you and me.”

“As long as you don’t do the same.”

Wilson cupped the back of House’s neck and drew him closer, kissing him briefly. “Promise.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin our honeymoon with sick people.”

Wilson placed his left hand on House’s knee. House placed his hand over it, and they interlaced their fingers, smiling down at the rings. Finding a honeymoon destination had actually been harder than deciding to get married. They’d rejected sandy beaches (House wasn’t too keen on bathing suits or swimming), Paris (Stacy’s long-time dream), London (Wilson’s first honeymoon destination), Venice (Wilson’s second honeymoon destination and anyway, the constant up-and-down on the bridges would’ve been impossible for House), the US entirely, and finally settled on doing a tour of some cities in Europe.

“I called all the railways this morning to confirm our private cabin,” Wilson said. “Some of them even remembered talking to you.”

“They were _morons_ ,” House complained. 

“And I called the hotels to double-check the suite.”

“Did they remember me, too?”

“No, I booked the hotels the first time around.”

“I checked with the airlines about the whole wheelchair thing.”

Wilson’s eyes widened. “I’m betting that’s why it took so long for me to get you one. And that _does_ explain the look one of the flight attendants gave me. Greg, did you make her cry?”

“Of course not! Does that sound like something I’d do?”

“Yes, actually. No terrorizing the flight attendants.”

“Yes, dear.”

Wilson snorted and kissed House again. His right hand stole to the back of House’s neck and his thumb gently stroked the soft hair there.

“Come on. Let’s go through security now.”

House nodded and reached for the wheels of his chair, ready to propel himself forwards.

“I’m pushing you around,” Wilson informed him matter-of-factly.

“Ah, finally that role-reversal you were looking for,” House chuckled. 

Wilson rolled his eyes and began pushing House towards the extremely long line. House groaned at the sight.

“Hey, you have no right to complain,” Wilson protested immediately. “You get to sit through the entire line. I, on the other hand, am…”

“Downright annoying,” House answered. 

***

The wheelchair was folded up and in the corner of business class. House was sprawled out in one of the large seats, his legs stretched out. He massaged his bad leg and looked around. Wilson was trying to put his bag into the overhead cabin.

House quickly popped a Vicodin in his mouth. He hadn’t stopped taking Vicodin and wouldn’t stop either, but he tried not to take many in front of Wilson. He didn’t think he could handle the concerned look for very long.

“Y’know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” House said nonchalantly once Wilson wiped his brow and stood in front of House, hands on his hips.

“What?” Wilson asked, moving one hand to rub tiredly at his neck.

“Well, besides sky-diving and a crazy weekend with at least three Playboy models –” 

That earned him a stern look from Wilson.

“I’d let you join, too,” House offered, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Wilson relented and smiled back.

“So, what is this thing you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Always wanted to join the Mile High Club.”

“Oh, no! No, no, no!”

“Why not?”

“Greg, do you honestly think two of us can _fit_ in an airplane bathroom?”

House shrugged. “Guess we’re going to have to improvise, then.”

“How?” Wilson asked suspiciously. 

House smiled wickedly. “Gonna have to show you, aren’t I? But not until after we’re high up in the sky. I don’t think it qualifies as the Mile High Club unless we’re really in the air.”

Wilson dropped into the seat next to House and wondered what he did to deserve this. Well, falling in love with and marrying him were two good starting answers to that question.

They watched the in-flight movie ( _The Bucket List_ ), drank champagne, and talked. Three hours in, Wilson was beginning to feel hopeful. Perhaps House had completely forgotten about the Mile High Club thing.

“Well,” House declared suddenly. “No time like the present. Time to show you how to have sex in that ludicrously small bathroom.”

Wilson groaned but stood. He was rather curious to see how you could fit two people in an airplane bathroom. 

“I mean, I doubt we’re gonna be able to do anal, but at least we’re gonna be able to jerk each other off,” House added cheerfully.

Wilson helped House stand and walk over to the bathroom. House entered, put his good leg on the toiled, braced his hands against the sink, and pushed upwards until he was perched precariously on the counter. Wilson entered, shutting the door and locking it.

“See? I told you we’d fit.”

“Mm… so you did.” Wilson leaned forward and kissed House. “So, do Mile High Club members have a card?”

“No, a t-shirt that says ‘I got lucky at 5280 feet’ on the front and ‘Join the Mile High Club’ on the back.” House cupped Wilson’s face and kissed him again.

“Really?” 

“Actually, no, they have a very stupid MHC shirt. I checked them out online. Key rings, stickers, couple of t-shirts, nothing very interesting.” House’s thumbs stroked Wilson’s cheek as he moved in for another kiss. “However, there _is_ something very interesting we can do.”

“You _really_ have a penchant for having sex in odd places.”

House smirked. “What can I say? Not _my_ fault you turn me on so much I have to do you in the closest closet or bathroom…” He spread his legs and pulled Wilson closer. “And you are a little minx. You know perfectly well what you do to me.”

Wilson smiled slightly and kissed House again, rubbing their hardening cocks together. 

“One thing I can’t work out,” House panted. “Would us coming make this place cleaner or dirtier?”

Wilson laughed breathlessly. “It’s not _that_ dirty here. Anyway, we’ve done it in dirtier places.” He slid his hands under House’s shirt. His fingers unerringly found House’s nipples, teasing them into hard nubs. House stifled his moans by biting his lip, his hand moving to the zip on Wilson’s pants. He pushed both it and Wilson’s boxers down to mid-thigh. Wilson sighed with relief as his dick was released. 

One of Wilson’s hands slipped out from under House’s shirt and moved to his pants, unzipping it slowly. With some help from House, he managed to pull House’s pants down to his ankles. It involved a lot of weight-shifting and bracing against the sink, wall, and Wilson’s shoulder for a moment.

Wilson stepped over the pants and properly in between House’s legs. House shifted forward slightly, bracing his weight on the toilet with his good leg and against the counter with his left arm. Their cocks brushed teasingly. Wilson nudged closer, and House wrapped his hand around both of them. 

Wilson cupped House’s cheeks and stuck his tongue in House’s mouth. House smiled into the kiss, lazily stroking both of them.

House broke the kiss and smiled slightly, speeding up his strokes. “We’re in a bathroom thousands of feet above the earth,” he murmured in Wilson’s ear. “And I just realized if we don’t speed this up, there’s going to be an angry horde outside the door.”

Wilson laughed breathlessly, one hand stealing down and joining House’s, their fingers entangling as they both stroked. His other hand moved to the back of House’s neck, playing with the soft hair, kissing him again.

House felt his balls drawing close to his body, felt his orgasm start to rattle through him, and he was coming, long white strands of pearly come hitting their hands and stomachs. His softening cock slipped out of their grasps.

“You are so hot like this,” House panted in Wilson’s ear, wet, warm breaths that made Wilson gasp. “Pants down to your thighs, your tie not even loosened, your shirt still buttoned, festooned with my come, your hard cock in my hand, your other hand on my neck, drawing me closer, kissing me ferociously… So. Fucking. Hot.”

Wilson gasped and bit the junction between House’s neck and shoulder as he came. House reached for the paper towels and wetted a few with warm water, gently cleaning them up.

Wilson grimaced at his quickly cooling, wet shirt, but said nothing. He pulled up his pants and zipped them again. House threw away the wet towels and kissed Wilson languidly.

“Need a hand getting down?” Wilson asked. 

“Hm… nope, I think I can do it.” Wilson nodded and moved out of House’s way as best as he could. House removed his foot from toilet and slid off the counter. He pulled his pants back up and smiled.

Wilson unlocked the door and peeked out. No one was standing in front of it, something he was absurdly grateful for. Coming out with a wet shirt and a grinning House would be too obvious.

He helped House back to their seats. “Damn. My shirt’s wet.”

House’s grin broadened. “If you give me my backpack, I have something to replace it with.”

Wilson nodded and took House’s backpack out of the overhead bin. House rummaged for a few minutes.

“Here.” He handed Wilson a white shirt with plain black text. He pulled out another one and started to put it on. “Custom-ordered it myself.”

Wilson unfolded his shirt and stifled a laugh. It read: “I got lucky at 5280 feet” on the front and “Join the Mile High Club” on the back.

\-- End.


End file.
